


November 30th, 1948

by RichardGraysonPercyJackson



Series: The Acrobat and The Mercenary [72]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Party, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Dysfunctional Family, Family, M/M, Mentioned Joey Wilson, Mentioned Rose Wilson - Freeform, Mentioned William Wintergreen, mentioned Adeline Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:39:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27801661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichardGraysonPercyJackson/pseuds/RichardGraysonPercyJackson
Summary: November 30th, 2018 - Slade Wilson turns seventy years old.Dick Grayson thinks this is something to celebrate.By the end of the night, his husband reluctantly agrees
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson
Series: The Acrobat and The Mercenary [72]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1323779
Comments: 13
Kudos: 137





	November 30th, 1948

**Author's Note:**

> Slade - 70 yrs
> 
> Dick - 25 yrs
> 
> Don't think too hard on the age difference : P

“I am in a  _ fantastic _ mood!”

“Well, that doesn’t bode well for my downtime or personal space, does it?” Slade mumbled, mostly to himself as he continued scrolling through contracts on the couch while Dick came into the apartment and kicked off his shoes - something Slade had repeatedly told him not to do - before coming around the couch and throwing himself into Slade’s lap, the mercenary merely lifting his tablet out of the way and continuing to read.

“Did my lovely husband enjoy his time alone while I was out?” Dick asked happily as he squirmed in Slade’s lap until he was plastered entirely over the man’s chest.

“I already miss it,” Slade replied with a long, drawn out sigh though there was no denying the slight tick of a smile on his lips. “What were you doing out so early, anyway? You were gone before I woke up.”

“It’s a surprise,” Dick replied, wrapping his arms around Slade’s neck.

“I genuinely dread what that could mean,” Slade said, finally setting his tablet on the end table next to the couch to give Dick his full attention.

“Don’t be like that,” Dick lectured. “You’re gonna love it.”

“What am I getting out of it?”

“Socialization with other human beings,” Dick replied bluntly.

Slade hummed, squeezing Dick before standing and dropping the acrobat onto the couch.

“Pass,” he mused as he grabbed his tablet and headed for the kitchen in the hopes that it would get Dick to drop the subject even though he knew it was pointless (and some deeper part of him did enjoy watching Dick talk about things he enjoyed)

“You’re such a hermit,” Dick muttered as he, predictably, pattered after Slade into the kitchen, taking a seat next to his husband who was looking at his tablet (but giving Dick his full attention) “You’re worse than Jason and Tim which I didn’t think was even remotely possible.”

“I like to socialize with a select two people,” Slade told him honestly. “You and Wintergreen.”

“That’s why I’m making you socialize with other people.”

“Like I said, pass.” Slade glanced over at the calendar as an idea came to mind and he frowned, slowly looking over at Dick. “When is this surprise happening?”

Dick blinked. “November.”

“So I gathered, as we’re twenty-seven days into November,” Slade said. “When exactly in November.”

This time Dick was a little slower in repsonseing. “The thirtieth.”

“The thirtieth,” Slade replied. “And this surprise is going to make me socialize with other people on the thirtieth?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Slade slowly, calmly, set his tablet aside as he turned and gave Dick one hundred percent of his attention, waiting until the acrobat had begun to squirm and avoid his gaze to say, “And this surprise, which will force me to socialize, and is happening on the thirtieth. It wouldn’t have anything to do with my birthday, now, would it?”

Dick gave a weak laugh, the kind he gave when he was outright lying. For a vigilante, he was truly shit at avoiding the truth.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied.

“Are you sure?” Slade asked. “I’m turning seventy on the thirtieth and you seem to have a surprise on that same day. You’re sure they’re not related?”

“Of course not,” Dick insisted. “I know how much you hate your birthday, you know I’d never force you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

Well if nothing else was,  _ that _ was certainly a bold faced lie but Slade didn’t bother to call him out on it and instead nodded.

“Alright then,” he said. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Dick chuckled weakly. “Right. Yeah. you do that.”

“And if you’re lying to me, Richard,” Slade said in a low voice as he stood and towered over Dick. “You aren’t going to like what happens.”

Okay, so maybe Dick wasn’t the only one lying.

…………………………………….

Admittadly, Slade actually forgot about Dick’s supposed surprise (big fucking mistake, as he’d soon find out) mostly because he suspected his fake threat would be enough to deter the acrobat from doing anything stupid.

Slade had forgotten who had raised his husband and the fact that no one on Dick’s side of the family knew how to not do stupid things.

The morning of the thirtieth started out like every other day. Slade woke up sweating to death due to the human octopus plastered against his entire left side and it took him about fifteen minutes to extract himself (because  _ maybe _ Slade was a bit of a softy who wasn’t that rude as to wake Dick up at six in the morning just so he could get out of bed.)

After making sure Dick was comfortably stretched out over the entirety of the bed, Slade headed to the bathroom to shower and shave and dress before slipping into the kitchen for coffee where the first reminder of the date was found.

Next to the coffee maker was a fresh package of Slade’s prefered coffee blend along with an envelope, his name scrawled in Wintergreen’s fancy handwriting.

Heaving a long, tired sigh as he remembered Dick’s ‘surprise’ from three days earlier, Slade grabbed the envelope and tossed it off to the side before starting up the coffee maker. He debated burning the envelope without reading it, but no doubt Wintergreen had made a copy and given it to Dick in the event the first one went up in flames.

Then again, Slade could always  _ lie _ and say he read it, but Dick had this uncanny, and very  _ irritating _ , sense of knowing when Slade was lying to him. Sometimes the mercenary would stop and wonder how the hell they’d made it this far into their marriage without killing each other.

He had yet to find an answer that didn’t involve Batman in any way, shape, or form.

So with a tired sigh, Slade grabbed his mug of coffee and moved to the living room to drop himself on the couch, tearing open the envelope and reading Wintergreen’s letter (with no small amount of reluctance) while sipping his coffee.

_ Before I get too far into this note - and waste my own time and yours - I’d like to point out that I’ve given Richard a copy of this so if you burn this one, he’s got another one. _

Slade rolled his eye, having expected that. Shaking his head, he sighed and forced himself to keep reading.

_ I will admit to being impressed you’ve made it to seventy without being killed. I give you my most sincere of congratulations. _

Slade snorted, recognizing the sarcasm. He skimmed the rest of the note, already knowing what to expect and at least being thankful that Wintergreen knew SLade cared little for his birthday and as such, didn’t  _ directly _ wish him a good one. Finished with the note, Slade debated throwing it away or shredding it before noting to himself that if he did that, there was a high chance that Dick - when he woke up - wouldn’t believe he’d read it and force him to read the same thing.

So he reluctantly left it on the end table before leaning back on the couch and allowing himself to enjoy the next several hours in peace before Dick woke and inevitably wanted to do something to celebrate.

……………………………………………

1:05PM

“Welcome to the land of the living,” Slade drawled when he finally heard the bedroom door open.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Dick fired back, stumbling through the living room on the way to the kitchen for coffee. “Ow, everything hurts.”

“Your fault, not mine,” Slade calmly remarked.

“Technically, you had  _ time _ to stop me from hitting that wall.”

“And you had time to stop yourself,” Slade replied, lifting his head from a pending contract to watch Dick’s back as the acrobat moved around the kitchen rpepping coffee. “Yet you did not.”

“Rude.”

Slade hummed, lips ticking up in a smile as he discarded his tablet and stood, walking over to press himself against Dick’s back, gently wrapping his arms around the acrobat’s waist and pressing a kiss to the top of the other’s forehead as he murmured,

“Sleep well?”

Dick yawned, leaning back and tilting his head up to peer at Slade as he replied,

“Actually, yeah.”

“You got twelve hours.”

“Shit, really?” Dick asked, looking over to the clock. “It’s one o’clock!?”

“Did you want to get up earlier, for once?” Slade teased as he stepped back, giving Dick his space and moving to lean against the counter next to his husband.

“No, I’ve just never slept this late unless I was injured,” Dick replied.

“You swung into a wall and almost max speed last night,” Slade reminded him. “Your entire body is, essentially, one big bruise. I’d consider that injured.”

“Not injured enough to sleep until one.”

“Your body disagrees, apparently.”

“Apparently,” Dick grumbled as he leaned his elbows on the counter, turning his attention away from the coffee pot and over to his husband. “How was your morning.”

“Quiet.”

“ _ Ha. Ha _ ,” Dick said firmly. “Good to know you’ll come check on me next time.”

“I value my quiet time.”

“Over your husband’s well being, clearly.”

It was a joke, they both knew. If Slade had  _ really _ been concerned that something was wrong with Dick, he would have come in a lot earlier. But the only injury Dick had gotten the night before was hitting the wall and Slade had already checked him for a concussion before bed.

“You were fine.”

Dick shook his head fondly before looking over at the calendar. “Oh, hey, it’s the thirtieth.” The oh so casual way he said it had Slade rolling his eye as Dick looked back over at him and said, “Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks,” Slade drawled. And then his amusement stilled as he recalled their conversation several days earlier.

_ And this surprise, which will force me to socialize, and is happening on the thirtieth. It wouldn’t have anything to do with my birthday, now, would it? _

Well  _ shit _ . And now the end of Wintergreen’s letter made a hell of a lot more sense than it had that morning.

_ And for the love of god, it’s your seventieth birthday. If your husband wants to do something special you should damn well let him. _

Fuck.

Clearing his throat and trying to remain casual, Slade asked, “You mentioned a few days ago you had something planned.” he glanced at Dick as he asked, “Did you still want to do something?”

“You didn’t,” Dick replied, shrugging. “And it’s your birthday. You should get to decide what we do, if anything.”

Slade shifted, trying to ignore the guilt that he wasn’t used to feeling until five years ago - coinciding with their marriage, obviously - as he asked,

“Did you have something planned?”

“Originally, sure,” Dick replied, making a happy hum when his coffee let him know it was ready. “But you said you didn’t want to do anything social so I canceled it.”

Slade sighed. Great, well, now he feels like shit. “Dick, I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” Dick smiled. “I explained it to the others, they understand.”

Slade nods. “What was it?” he’s never been one to indulge in curiosity but, well, it’s  _ Dick _ . 

“It was just a small get together,” Dick replied. “You, me, Wintergreen, Rose, and Joey.”

Slade blinked. “For what?”

Dick stares at him like he’s crazy. “Your...birthday?” he replied slowly.

“Who’s idea?”

“Rose’s, actually,” Dick said. “She and Joey have been thinking about trying to have a better relationship with you and I guess they figured your seventieth birthday was as good a time as any to start trying.”

Some of Slade’s guilt fades away knowing it was his kids’ idea and not his. Still, he does feel a bit bad. He’s the  _ father _ for god’s sake, shouldn’t he be the one trying to reconvene with his children, not the other way around?

“You canceled it then.”

“Well, yeah,” Dick asked, confusion clear in his voice. “You didn’t seem interested when we sort of talked about it a few days ago and it’s  _ your _ birthday, Slade. I’m not Bruce, I’m not going to make you do something you don’t want to.”

Slade snorted, shaking his head as he let the sound drop off into quiet laughter before sighing and murmuring,

“If you... _ wanted _ to do something to celebrate, I suppose I’m not...opposed to just ROse and Joey and...Wintergreen.”

“Slade, I’m not trying to-”

“I know,” Slade cut in, turning to lean his hip against the counter and face Dick. “But let’s be honest, what the hell else am I going to do, hm?”

“So…” Dick frowned. “Do you want me to call them and have them over, or…”

Slade sighed. “Sure,” he finally replied. “Go for it.”

Dick still seemed hesitant for a moment before pushing himself from the counter. 

“Alright…” he eyed Slade for a moment before vanishing through the living room and into their bedroom to grab his phone and contact Rose about coming over for dinner.

……………………………

The get together was...not as shit as Slade would admit he had been expecting. Rose and Joey didn’t stay long - Dick said he was glaring and they thought he needed space - so most of the evening was just spent with Dick and Wintergreen which was...nice.

It was nice.

“Thank you,” Slade told Dick later that night as they were getting ready for bed.

“For what?” Dick asked. “Forcing you to socialize?”

Slade rolled his eye. “On the contrary,” he replied. “For giving me the option.”

Dick stilled. “Well, I wasn’t going to force people into your home  _ just because _ I feel like turning seventy is something exciting to celebrate.”

Slade hummed. “I haven’t genuinely celebrated my birthday since I was…” he paused, thinking. “Twenty….three. I think.”

“How come?”

“Never cared,” Slade admitted. “Adeline would acknowledge it, but we never really did anything.” he smiled. “I was surprised you waited this long to do something.”

“It didn’t seem like something you ever cared about,” Dick replied, chuckling slightly. “So I wasn’t going to make you.”

“But you wanted to this year.”

“Like I said, I think turning seventy while you still look fifty-three is something to celebrate.”

Slade laughed out loud. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday, Slade.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no idea if where this short fits into the series is right, I kinda just shoved it wherever, but once I fully edit and organize everything, it might change
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, I've been waiting to post this today (November 30th) for awhile for obvious (I hope) reasons


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